[11/21, 22:13, Nanyi City Second Detention Center]
Late at night, after six hours of heavy rain, it finally ceased.
In the interrogation room, Zhao Chenghu sat behind the interrogation table, his hands cuffed to the tabletop. His body slouched lazily, an air of insouciance about him. Despite the aggressive questioning from the pre-trial officer, his triangular eyes dared to show a look of contempt, the epitome of a dead pig unafraid of boiling water.
“Zhao Chenghu, I’ll remind you again, watch your attitude!” The pre-trial officer’s voice was low, deliberately suppressing his anger. He glanced at the broad-shouldered, burly man, who was almost slumping out of his chair. “Sit up straight! This is the police station, not a tea restaurant!”
Zhao Chenghu1The name 成虎 (Chénghǔ) can be interpreted to mean “to become a tiger” or “accomplished tiger,” suggesting someone who is strong, brave, and formidable., bold as his name suggested, raised his voice and asked, “What’s wrong with my attitude? Staying up late at night chatting with you two gentlemen, what else do you want from me?!”
“You!” The pre-trial officer suddenly stood up, pointing at him, “Let me tell you, confessing and showing a good attitude might earn you leniency from the state. If you don’t cooperate, just wait to get a bullet in your head!”
“You think I don’t know the law? Killing so many people—what’s the use of admitting it now? I’ll still get the death penalty anyway,” Zhao Chenghu sneered coldly. “Since I won’t live, I’d rather let Brother Pang kill a few more and have them accompany me in death!”
The pre-trial officer’s hand trembled slightly as he held his teacup, almost wanting to splash the hot tea onto this rogue’s head.
An hour had passed since Zhao Chenghu was brought into the interrogation room. This guy was impenetrable; his mouth shut tight like a clam, and not a single useful word had been extracted.
Li Changsheng and Shao Shiqing watched from outside the interrogation room. Yi Shi silently leaned against the door, hidden in a shadow. Ding Ju, having changed into a spare uniform, entered while toweling his hair dry. The first thing he saw was Yi Shi. The man was soaked, with a puddle already forming at his feet. His pale skin looked as bright as cold jade under the dim light, giving the impression of a ghost emerging from the wall.
Ding Ju’s heart skipped a beat, and he subconsciously took a step back, inexplicably feeling a bit scared of Yi Shi.
Following him in was Yu Xue, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and carrying a navy-blue uniform jacket on his arm. He asked as soon as he entered, “Still not talking?” Then he glanced at Yi Shi, who looked like a drowned rat, and said, “Go change your clothes. We’re tight on tasks, no sick leave approved.”
His tone was indifferent and calm, with a particularly clear enunciation that carried an undeniable sense of command.
Yi Shi remained silent for a moment before finally turning to leave the interrogation room.
Li Changsheng and the others’ eyes collectively followed that sharp, somber figure, watching him head toward the changing room until his rain-soaked coat completely disappeared. They all let out a sigh of relief.
An hour earlier, everyone had advised Yi Shi to go back. He had caught an important suspect tonight and had done a great job, so they arranged for him to rest, saying he didn’t need to concern himself with the pre-trial. But Yi Shi had stubbornly refused to leave, standing guard in front of the interrogation room like a statue, his eyes cold enough to pierce through the one-way mirror.
They had no way to deal with him. Yi Shi was notoriously difficult to get along with—his temperament was too cold and too intense. Despite his refined, princely appearance, his icy demeanor pushed anyone who tried to get close away.
On the entire team, Yu Xue was the only one who could handle him. Yi Shi’s obstinate nature was something only Yu Xue could tame. They had been schoolmates, and when Yi Shi had a major fight with a police academy classmate, it was Yu Xue who intervened and prevented a disaster.
“We can’t drag this out too long. If Pang Daozi finds out Zhao Chenghu has been caught, he might act recklessly and kill all the hostages,” Yu Xue said, wiping his glasses with a soft cloth. “It’s not crucial for him to confess to anything else. Even with a zero confession, we can convict him. The key is to get the hostages’ whereabouts.”
“Captain Yu, Zhao Chenghu has given up. The two pre-trial officers in there are almost at their limit,” Li Changsheng pointed at the one-way mirror.
“Have they used the information about his family? I heard he has a son.”
“Used it long ago. When he heard about his son, he laughed and said, he’d rather be shot than let his son grow up hating him.”
“And that woman wouldn’t want her son to acknowledge a father like him. She’s planning to find someone new.”
Such outlaws had long disregarded life and death. To them, family might not offer warmth but rather a burden. Zhao Chenghu and his ‘wife’ weren’t legally married, just lovers. After Zhao Chenghu committed such a crime, she was eager to distance herself, terrified she would be implicated and arrested.
Facing this situation, the team had no immediate strategy. If they could detain him for ten days or half a month, they might extract something, but the higher-ups were pressing, and the hostages couldn’t wait that long. Upon hearing Zhao Chenghu was captured, they immediately arranged a night interrogation with a strict order to find out the hostages’ whereabouts within 12 hours.
Yu Xue pressed his finger against his chin, contemplating. Shao Shiqing approached and patted his shoulder, “How about we change interrogators?”
Li Changsheng pouted, “Change to whom? Lao Yan just had surgery. Are we going to drag the old man out of his hospital bed?”
Lao Yan, the most senior pre-trial team leader, had never had a case with zero confessions. No matter how vicious the criminal was, they would confess under his interrogation. Unfortunately, Lao Yan had been diagnosed with stomach cancer last month and was now recovering from surgery, on extended sick leave.
The two pre-trial officers in the room were Lao Yan’s disciples, the most promising in the team but still inexperienced compared to Lao Yan. Pre-trial interrogation was a battle of wits with criminals; whoever stayed calm the longest would win.
“We have a non-staff pre-trial officer, don’t we?” Shao Shiqing smiled.
Ding Ju curiously asked, “Who? Is there a non-staff member on the pre-trial team?”
“I’ll do it.”
A cool voice came from the doorway. Everyone turned to see Yi Shi, now in a crisp police uniform, hair dried, standing straight with a slender build. With his exquisite face and upright posture, he looked as elegant as a young nobleman. Li Changsheng whispered, “That’s the off-the-books member. He doesn’t play by the rules and can be so ruthless that even Lao Yan is intimidated.”
Yi Shi walked in, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows. A hideous scar snaked up from his right forearm and disappeared into the rolled-up sleeve, resembling an ugly centipede crawling on white jade.
Yu Xue picked up the gooseneck microphone and spoke to the pre-trial officers, “You two, come out and take a rest.”
The two pre-trial officers came out one after the other, apologizing to Yu Xue with dejected faces, feeling ashamed for not getting anything useful out of an hour-long interrogation. Yu Xue, ever good-tempered, waved them off, “Don’t take it to heart. Even your mentor would have a hard time with a tough nut like this. Go get a cup of coffee to perk up; we’ll take it from here.”
The pre-trial officers understood and, after thanking Captain Yu, left together. Only the core members of the first criminal investigation team remained in the interrogation room. Li Changsheng turned off the surveillance, and Shao Shiqing, being considerate, stepped outside to stand guard after closing the door.
Yu Xue picked up the materials and notebook on the table and placed a hand on Yi Shi’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze, “The whole night is ours. Don’t go too extreme.” He paused, “Of course, the sooner the hostages are rescued, the better the odds. You know this.”
Yi Shi replied coolly, “I understand. If anything happens, I’ll take the blame. You guys were unaware.”
Ding Ju felt a chill run down his spine. The calmer Yi Shi’s demeanor, the more terrifying he seemed. During a previous operation, Yi Shi had the same expression, holding a gun in a narrow alley. He opened the cylinder, removed all but one bullet, put it back, and then pressed the gun to the robber’s temple, making him guess a number and pulling the trigger that many times.
This psychological pressure from the Russian roulette game was immense, as the robber couldn’t tell when the real bullet would fire, his life hanging by a thread. The man, pale and trembling, guessed three times before he broke down, begging Yi Shi to take the gun away and eagerly revealing his accomplice’s escape route.
Ding Ju had been dumbfounded watching from the alley entrance. He didn’t know if this counted as coercion, as Yi Shi had not technically violated any legal procedures, but the method was undeniably ruthless. When Yi Shi emerged from the alley with the weak-kneed robber, he gave Ding Ju a faint glance and said, “If anything happens, I’ll take the blame. You were unaware.”
Ding Ju stuttered, “What if you actually killed him?”
Yi Shi opened his right hand, revealing a copper-colored bullet in his palm. Ding Ju was astonished, having clearly seen Yi Shi load the bullet. When had he taken it out, or was it never loaded in the first place?
From that moment, Ding Ju knew Yi Shi was not simple and should not be provoked. When he got serious, there was nothing he couldn’t do.
Yu Xue poured a cup of tea and, with the folder under his arm, led the way into the interrogation room. Yi Shi grabbed a ballpoint pen from the table, unhurriedly stepping into the room.
Zhao Chenghu was in the mood to hum a tune. The iron door opened, and two men walked in: one with gold-rimmed glasses, scholarly and handsome; the other, thin and fair-skinned, with features too delicate, his eyes emitting a chilling cold light, looking at Zhao Chenghu as if he were a dead man.
Isn’t this the cop who caught him? He looked like a frail pretty boy, yet the kick he delivered still left Zhao Chenghu’s chest aching faintly.
Yu Xue sat down and opened the folder with a smile, “You’re Zhao Chenghu, right?”
Zhao Chenghu’s voice boomed, “It’s your grandpa.”
Yu Xue was not the least bit annoyed. Yi Shi, holding a ballpoint pen, repeatedly clicked the spring-loaded button at the end; the clicking sound was especially loud in the quiet interrogation room.
“It was Pang Daozi’s mother who was in trouble, so why did you rush to play the filial son?”
“The old lady treated me well before. Can’t I come to pay my respects?”
“Too bad, this respect-paying brought you right to the police station.”
“All because of your cops’ trickery!”
“Trickery? You commit crimes, we catch you. Everyone is just doing their job.”
“Cut the crap. I won’t say a word!”
Yu Xue unscrewed his thermos and leisurely blew on the tea leaves floating on top, “Don’t forget what you said.”
Zhao Chenghu couldn’t make sense of it. This cop came in spouting nonsense, annoyingly calm; the other one, silent, kept clicking the pen, creating an irritating rhythmic background noise.
Suddenly, Yi Shi walked over, grabbed Zhao Chenghu’s hair, and yanked his head up, forcing him to look up at nearly a 90-degree angle.
Yi Shi raised his hand, clicked the pen to extend the tip, and slowly brought it closer to Zhao Chenghu’s eye. Zhao Chenghu widened his triangular eyes and swallowed hard, “Stinking cop! If you dare, poke my eye out! I’ll immediately accuse you of coercion!”
The pen tip stopped ten centimeters from Zhao Chenghu’s eye. Yi Shi looked down at him, his gaze as sharp as a sword.
“From now on, if you dare say a single word, you know what will happen.”
